Just A Jump Away
by CeruleanCat
Summary: Clary is ready to take that small jump to end it all, but someone stops her: Raphael. The Shadowhunters don't trust Clary after this, and give Raphael permission to keep her at the DuMort so he can make sure she doesn't try anything again. What do you get if you put together a stuborn redhead and a sarcastic Hispanic vampire? A very interesting story ;) Claphael!
1. Just A Jump Away

**AN: After a tragic accident, Clary is looking for ways to end the pain; desperate ways. She is ready to take that small jump, but something stops her: a certain vampire, Raphael. The Shadowhunters give Raphael permission to keep Clary at the DuMort to prevent her from trying this again, and- you know what? You should just read this, I think. Please review :D**

**Thank you! -Cat ^..^ **

I sat at the kitchen table on the Institute, eyes wide. I couldn't comprehend the message blinking on my phone in front of me. I had been staring at it for the past few minutes; the message that said there had been a fire. The message that said there had been a fire at my house. The message that said that there had been a fire at my house while Luke and my mom were inside. The message that said that there had been a fire at my house while Luke and my mom were inside, and that the firefighters had found no one living in the ash pile that was once my home.

Everyone was out; either shopping or demon-hunting, so no one was there when I finally did get the message through my denying head.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, holding my head in my hands, rocking back and forth on the chair, taking in deep breaths only to let it out in a scream a few seconds later. Church came in quickly after a few screams, looking at me quizzically, and then left. This small movement shook me out of the haze, and I stood up, surprisingly steady, carrying my phone in one hand.

I absentmindedly dialed Jace's number, continuing to walk towards the front door. He picked up on the second ring, "Yes?"

"Jace," I said, my voice a hoarse whisper, "They're d-dead."

His voice automatically became more alert, "Clary, who? Is it Maia? Jordan? Rat-boy?"

"Jocelyn and… L-Luke. I don't want to talk about it. I'm going out," I hung up, hearing his protest, and opened the front door. A cold gust of air hit me, and I realized how dark it was out; probably around nine to ten at night. _Oh well,_ I thought. My mind wandered, my legs taking me to who knows where. I felt tears stream down my cheeks, leaving trails of cold where the wind hit them.

I had only been walking for ten minutes when I realized where exactly my body had taken me. I was on a bridge, oddly absent of cars, and was standing very close to the edge.

A fresh wave of grief crashed into me, and a strangled sob broke past my lips. I leaned against the railing, letting myself cry, feeling hopelessly abandoned. I continued like this for a few minutes, until a peculiar sense of calm understanding washed over me. Not understanding of the deaths, but of an idea. An idea that would end this tormenting misery. And all it took was a quick step over the railing, a few seconds of free-falling, and a splash. The cold would do me in, hopefully quickly.

I blinked my green eyes, and shakily brought one of my legs over the railing. Then the other. I stood on the small ledge, seeing the river crash beneath me, my clammy hands clutching the cold metal rail. I leaned forward, the grip my hands had on the rail loosening slightly, feeling the wind tug me forward. And I let it, slightly. I precariously let one of my feet dangle in the air, spray from the river darkening the fabric of my shoe. I let out a raspy breath, my throat still raw from screaming.

"And you are doing what, exactly?" a male, accented voice asked from behind me.

I felt myself stiffen, knowing if I did jump now, he would probably try to stop me. "None of your business," I said, leaning forward on my one foot still on the ledge.

"You know, _hermosa_, usually Shadowhunters are smarter than to try to take their own lives."

At this, I turned my head around, not fully, just enough for me to see who it was out of the corner of my eye, "Raphael."

He smirked, stepping forward, but he was still about ten feet behind me. He probably would've been closer, but didn't want to provoke me into jumping.

"So, how do you think the Golden Boy, or the Daylighter, will react to this?"

I let out a rattling breath, turning my head back around. A strong gust of wind blew behind me, pushing my body forward and causing my hair to whip around me. I would have fallen by now if not for my loose grip on the rails, "I don't care right now. They'll just have to move on, I guess."

I let my foot rest onto the ledge, but brought them both to the edge, so my heels were the only parts in contact with the ground. My fingers loosened, just the tips keeping me in place, and I leaned forward another inch. If a gust of wind were to come right now, my weight would pull me forward into the drop.

He took another step forward, and I leaned even further, making my message clear. Stay back.

"So what happened to make you act this stupidly? Did you ruin your best pair of shoes?"

My jaw clenched, "My mother and Luke are dead."

"That's it?" He asked sarcastically.

He probably would've continued if not for me interrupting him, "-Yes. That's it." And my fingers loosened completely just as a gust of wind came, and I stepped off the ledge.

Instinct wanted to make me flail, but at the thought of Luke's warm smile, and Jocelyn brushing my hair when I was younger, my muscles all tightened, and I made myself stay still.

I had barely begun to fall, when I the air knocked out of me as something grabbed the back of my hoodie, pulling me back up. I stayed in the air for a moment, hands clawing at the rim of the hoodie to try to regain the ability to breathe. Then, I was pulled over the railing, falling hard onto the asphalt. I pushed myself up with my arms, glaring up at Raphael, who was looking at me with bored eyes.

I tried to stand up, but my shaky legs and lack of breath stopped me. I reached towards the railing, not to pull myself over, only to stand, but Raphael reached down pulling me up roughly, away from the railing.

We stood there for a minute, me with my arms crossed, glaring, and him watching me coolly, probably making sure I wasn't going to jump. I gave him one last look, and turned, starting the long walk back to the Institute. Knowing Jace, he would automatically look for me at my house, so I would have enough time to try something else. I was coming out of the angst-induced haze, and it brought back the full force pain. I felt the tears trickling out of my eyes, and as I kept walking the haze faded completely, and I let myself crumple to the sidewalk, whimpering.

I heard near silent footsteps behind me, and looked up from behind my curtain of hair to see Raphael walking towards me. "What do you want?" I said, trying to sound angry, but it was ruined when my voice cracked.

He sighed, rolling his eyes, "Well, for one thing, _hermosa, _it wouldn't be very good on my record with the Nephilim if I let one of their own kill themselves, so I'm going to stay with you until we find one of your 'friends'."

He put out a hand to help me up, but I folded my arms, glaring at him. "How are you going to stop me if I go into the Institute and overdose or slit my wrists or something?"

He smirked, "Hermosa, do you really think I'd be stupid enough to let you go near sacred ground?"

I rolled my eyes, although I felt my stomach sink. So much for that plan, "Well then, Mr. I've-thought-everything-out, what place can you take me to that isn't sacred ground _and_ the Shadowhunters will be able to find?"

"The Hotel DuMort. Last I checked, the Golden Boy knew perfectly well where it is."

"Oh hell no." I said. I stood up and started to walk away, but Raphael grabbed my arm, keeping me in place. I tried to pull away, but gave up after a minute. "Okay then, how do you know they won't be killed on site?"

Raphael shrugged, still holding tight onto my arm, "I'll tell my clan to leave them alone."

I tried one last time to pull away, and when that didn't work, I made myself go limp, falling to the concrete. I didn't want to be alive anymore, much less standing up. Memories of Luke came up again, and I felt tears spill over. Raphael looked down at me, raising an eyebrow, at the crying or falling down I don't know, and sighed. He reached down, pulling me to my feet. I glared at him through tear-stained eyes, but he didn't loosen his grip on my hand, probably because he knew I'd try to get away.

"Okay, give me your cell phone."

"Why?" I asked, stubbornly. Okay, stupid question, I know, but I really didn't want Jace to know about this. I knew how disappointed he'd be with me.

"_Dios_, I thought you were supposed to be one of the smart ones." He muttered, and reached into my jacket pocket and grabbed my phone. Raphael scrolled through my contacts until he reached Jace, pressed the call button, and started to drag me in the direction of the DuMort. After a few seconds, I grudgingly started walking, and he let go of my wrist.

Jace picked up on the third ring. Raphael hit the speaker button as Jace's voice came through, "Oh my God, Clary, are you all right? We've been looking you ever since I got the call, you weren't at the Institute, you weren't at…" He trailed off.

"She's fine, Nephilim." Raphael said, his voice laced with noticeable boredom.

Jace's voice, which had been caring, now turned bitter, "Bloodsucker. What did you do with her?"

"I swear, you Nephilim _are_ really dense, aren't you? I just said she was fine, didn't I? She's just sulking because I stopped her from jumping to her death."

Jace was silent for a moment. His voice came through, noticeably shaken up, "Wh-what did you say?"

"_Dios,_ I said she tried to commit suicide and I stopped her. No thank you?"

I felt so small, but thankfully we had arrived at the DuMort that moment, and I had something to preoccupy me. The tears were coming back, along with heart-wrenching memories of Jocelyn painting, Luke letting me pick out books from his bookstore…

Raphael nodded his head in the direction of the DuMort's crumbling front steps, and I sat down, putting my head in my hands, my body wracking with silent sobs. It came back once I thought it was gone. The grief. I should've been there. I should've died with them. I need to fix that. I continued to cry silently for my dead mother and the man who might as well had been my father. I could hear Raphael talking angrily with Jace on the phone, and he didn't hang up for who knows how long. After I did hear the familiar end-call beep, Raphael walked over to me, his walk oddly silent. It was the same silence Simon now walked with.

"They'll be here in a few minutes. They're having the warlock make a portal." He leaned against the wall of the DuMort, and after I saw we were going to wait outside (thank God) I put my head back into my hands, letting tears noiselessly trickle from the corners of my eyes.

As Raphael said, a minute later the familiar flash of light that signaled a portal appeared, and out stepped the people I've been dreading facing: Jace, Alec, Isabelle, Magnus, Simon, Maia, and Jordan.

Across all of their faces, I saw the emotions I feared: pity, horror, anger, grief, and disappointment.

We all stayed where we were for a few minutes, until Raphael cleared his throat, "Now, when are we going to discuss the deal we made, Nephilim?"

Jace avoided looking me in the eyes, "Give me a minute."

Turning to Magnus he said, "Why don't you take Clary to go get her things?"

My reddened eyes widened, but I stayed quiet and walked back through the portal through with Magnus. Once we crossed through, the portal disappeared, and we appeared in one of the Institute's pristine walls, I turned to Magnus, "What were they talking about?"

Magnus looked at me, his cat-like eyes full of pity, "Oh, Clary, Simon and I didn't agree to it, but the others did. They decided that you needed to be somewhere where you harming yourself wouldn't be a possibility. And, since someone has already proved they can ensure that, you'll be staying with them for a while, until you move past this."

My mind didn't comprehend through the grief-haze, "Who's that?"

But the minute the words left my mouth, I _did_ comprehend. "Magnus, no." My voice a pleading whisper.

He looked down, and tightly nodded, "Yes. Raphael."


	2. The Hotel of Death

I stood there, gaping at Magnus, my voice strained, "Why." Not a question, just a statement, because we both knew why. They must have been on the phone longer than I thought.

I walked past him before he could reply, not to get away from him, but to pack my things so I could go see Jace sooner. See him to ask him all those useless questions: 'How could you?', 'Is there anything else?', 'Is there another option?'.

I could hear Magnus walking behind me. Of course, they can't leave me alone. I understand; especially when I was still thinking about how it was a mistake that I wasn't there, wherever there was, with Jocelyn and Luke. I pushed open the door to my room, and turned to Magnus, "How much should I take?"

Magnus looked around, and gestured to my old camouflage backpack, "I'd say enough to fit in there. If I were you, I'd only take a few outfits, so you could take other things." He stuttered a little when he said the last part, his eyes flickering to a picture of Jocelyn, Luke, and me from a few years ago, before I knew about this world.

I nodded curtly, and began to pack everything I might need: a brush, some hair products to keep my hair manageable, a few outfits, shoes… I paused when I looked at my more personal items: the picture, an art kit and sketchbook Luke had given me for my last birthday, the rock I had painted with Jocelyn when I was four.

I hurriedly put it all in my bundle of clothes, trying to avoid looking too closely at the faces in the frame.

I stood there, hesitant, and decided to grab all of my cash that I had been saving up to buy Jocelyn something for her birthday, stuffing in my backpack as well. It must've been a good two hundred dollars, but who knows who I'd need to bribe to get out of the DuMort, or how much a bottle of over the counter painkillers would cost.

I felt tears well up in my eyes for the umpteenth time today as I gave my room one last look, and turned to Magnus, giving him a grim nod. We were almost back to the Institute's main hall when I decided to ask an almost-pointless question, "Is there any chance I could take my stele?"

Magnus looked at me with a sad smile, "Sorry, but you aren't exactly the most 'trustworthy' person right now."

Even Magnus was giving me this look like I was a bomb ready to explode, I guess it was a lot less than what the others were giving me, but still. Let me tell you guys, this whole plan 'let's ignore Clary until she decides she wants to live' isn't working very well.

Magnus chanted a few words under his breath, and the portal appeared. We stepped through, and appeared in front of the DuMort, where Jace was signing some papers. Everyone else looked at me nervously, exchanging glances with each other. I ignored the Lightwoods and the two werewolves, walking straight up to Simon.

"Is there any way we could talk alone for a minute?" I asked in a hushed voice.

Jace managed to hear, though, and gave Simon a wary glance, "Fine. But _please _keep an eye on her, rat-boy."

I almost immediately started walking away, but Simon caught up to me in the span of a second. We didn't stop walking until we were out of hearing distance of the rest of the group.

I stood there for a second, looking up at him with empty eyes. I almost felt bad; it wasn't his fault. But then again, I don't see him trying to help me get away. My parents were just killed, and here was my group of friends handing me off for my own protection.

"Clary, please understand that I didn't agree to this. But you have to understand there reasons, Clary, you tried to jump off a _bridge_, for G-," he coughed as if choking, but continued, "You can't blame them, I mean-"

I cut him off, "I didn't come here to beg. I want to know the terms to this agreement. What paper was Jace signing?"

Simon looked guilty, "Well, what I understood was that Raphael has custody of you, because he has proven he can take care of you, and it would be impossible to leave," he shot a glance back to the looming hotel, "So, when it's decided you've gotten past this, you'll be allowed to go back to a normal life. The Clave has had this, not so much a law, but an allotment, in place for a while. It says that a Downworlder may take custody of a Shadowhunter, temporarily, if: the situation is extreme, the relatives or other Shadowhunters give permission, and the Downworlder is deemed trustworthy."

"Simon, define _temporarily_. Who or what decides when I can leave."

He mumbled a response, but with a glare on my part, he said it again, "The Downworlder responsible."

I gulped, "_Raphael_ decides when I am released?"

"Did I mention I didn't agree to this?" Simon muttered nervously.

I nodded, and slowly walked back to the group, watching Jace as I went. He made eye contact with me, finally, and had a look in his eyes that said 'you left me no choice'.

I was the one to look away first, looking from face to face of the friends that had put my life in the hands of someone they had never trusted before now.

I stood in front of the group, Isabelle, Alec, and Raphael signing different parts on the paper; no, custody agreement.

The minute it took them to finish signing went by too quickly. Before I knew it, they were stepping though the portal, all except Jace, who stayed behind for a minute. He leaned in as if to kiss me, but pulled back, an ashamed look on his face.

What, is having suicidal tendencies contagious now?

Jace turned to Raphael, "Try anything funny, Bloodsucker, and I can promise you the Clave will be on the DuMort faster than you can say _Dios_."

Raphael held up his hands in a mocking surrender, and smirked, "I'm well aware, _rubio_."

Jace looked like he was going to growl, but stalked away, walking though the portal. I didn't get even a simple goodbye.

I turned to Raphael, glaring, "Now what?"

He turned, walking towards the edge of the building, where I remember the grate to be.

I followed, and watched silently as he easily removed the grate. I remember what a struggle it had been for Jace to remove it, and Raphael had simply flipped it open.

"I'll go down first, so a.) I can catch you, and, b.) Make sure no other vampires are waiting down there to bite you. After I go down, you have ten seconds to jump; don't try running, I think I've made it pretty clear I can outrun you, hermosa." He flashed me a grin, with fangs, and jumped down easily before I could reply.

I was tempted to try and run, but the part of me that remained from before I found out about the fire told the rest of me to shut up and not to be stupid.

I hesitantly jumped down, and sure enough, the Mexican bastard dared to catch me. I tried to shove him away, but he just grinned, not affected. He put me down after a few seconds, purposely annoying me. I stood there, arms crossed, waiting for him to show me where we were going. I could feel tears prickling my eyes, and grief pounding against my head, but I wasn't going to cry in front of him.

He eventually led me to one of the not-so-ruined staircases, and led us up to one of the top floors. No vampires had questioned us yet; Raphael had probably warned them to back off. This floor was surprisingly intact, almost no holes in the walls or roof. I hesitantly followed behind him, the Shadowhunter in me keeping an eye out for vampires that might be hiding in the shadows. It was midnight outside, and with the heavy curtains blocking the windows that weren't boarded up, I found myself stumbling continuously.

After the third time I tripped, nearly falling to the ground, Raphael let out an exasperated sigh, "_Dios_, this is going to be hard."

He grabbed my arm, despite a glare I'm positive he saw, and started pulling me faster, guiding me past all of the uneven carpet and furniture in the halls. We were passing several hotel rooms, I could tell by the glinting bronze plates carved with room numbers, and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. Did it matter this much which room I was going to stay in?

We came to a stop at the end of the hall, in front of one of the suites. Raphael pulled a key from his pocket, unlocking the door. As he pulled me through the door, I saw the initials 'RS' carved into the door.

"Is this _your _room?" I asked, and mentally face-palmed myself for the hint of disgust that showed in my voice. I'm positive I won't hear the end of that.

Raphael ignored me, but walked over to a spot in the wall, flicked on a light, and a dim bulb flickered on, illuminating the room. Raphael squinted at the dim light for a minute, almost baring his fangs, but turned to me, with a small grin, "Yes, it's my room, hermosa."

I'm sure my face must've shown what I was thinking, because he smirked, the tips of his fangs showing, "_Dios_, do all Nephilim have such dirty minds, hermosa? There is another bed in the guest bedroom, unless you _want_ to share a be-"

I stomped on his foot, and near-growled at him, "Just show me where I put my stuff."

He winked at me, and I felt my face flush red, with anger or embarrassment, I'm not sure.

He pointed to one of the doors, "There's the guest bedroom; the bathroom is the door to the left of that. I have to go meet with a Clave official to sign some final papers; I'm trusting that you aren't stupid enough to try and escape a hotel with a few hundred vampires in it."

He smirked, and walked out, closing the door behind him. I stood there, mouth open for a few seconds. Sure, leave the defenseless Shadowhunter alone in a hotel filled with vampires, this'll end well.

I looked around the room, now being able to see in the dim light. In this main room there was a bed, and an office in the corner. I walked over to the door leading to the guest room, flinching whenever the old floor creaked beneath me. I tentatively pushed open the door, and blinked in surprise. The room was in good condition, and had a bed, dresser with an only slightly cracked mirror, and a nightstand. I didn't bother taking my stuff out of the backpack; I just put the whole thing in the nightstand's bottom drawer.

I looked around for any windows, but the only two I found were boarded up heavily and had thick curtains around them on top of that.

I sat on the edge of the guest bed, pulling out my phone. I sat there staring at it. Who could I talk to? Who would understand my situation?

I began to scroll down through my contacts absentmindedly, but when I looked at where I had stopped, my breath hitched in my throat. I had stopped at Luke's name. I felt a sob rise up in my throat, but quickly silenced it. I had sat there for a few mere minutes when I heard the door creak open almost silently. I slowly got up, careful to not step on the creaky parts of the floor. It's a little soon for Raphael to be back, I thought. I walked as quietly as I could to the doorway leading to the main room, and didn't see anyone. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I turned around to go back into the bedroom, only to come face-to-face with an all too familiar vampire with blue hair.

Lily glared at me, "What are _you _doing here, Nephilim?"

I did my best to not look intimidated, but I was pretty sure she could hear my racing heart, "Ask Raphael. It's not like I'm here of my free will."

She raised a thin eyebrow. "Really?" she asked sarcastically, "How about you just answer the question, Nephilim. Why are you here, and, more importantly, what's stopping us from feeding off of you right now?"

I felt my heart skip a beat, "Us?" I turned around, and saw several vampires had gathered silently in the room. I turned back to Lily, "To answer your question, I'm here because the Shadowhunters decided to trust some Downworlders with my safety."

She kept smiling, ignoring the taunt, "What about my other question?"

"The Head of your clan." I said, the uncertainty creeping into my voice.

Her smile grew wider, showing her fangs, "But he's not here right now, is he?"

I realized what she wanted to hear, but I wouldn't say it, "No, but he will be."

She laughed, "No, he won't, we both know that. He was pretty stupid, bringing you here and thinking we would ignore fresh blood."

I felt my pulse increase even more, and I saw the hungry look in Lily's eyes grow. I took a step to the side, now in the room with all of my stuff. My phone was on the bed, if only I could reach it…

Lily interrupted my thoughts with a harsh scoff, "Really? A cell phone? So, Little Miss High and Mighty _Shadowhunter_, if you did call someone, do you think they could get here in time to save you?"

She gave me one last mocking grin, and nodded her head ever so slightly, which was apparently the signal the other vampires were waiting for. "Do it quick. The others will come when the smell the fresh blood, and it'd be a shame to have less for us," Lily said to the vampires that had been moving closer.

Lily bared her teeth at me, and I saw her fangs had fully extended. That was all I saw before they pounced. _Oh shit_, I thought.


	3. What Did I Get Myself Into?

I had met with the Clave representative at a small 24/7 diner that was only a block or two from the DuMort. We could have met at the DuMort itself, but the Clave wasn't very thrilled about the idea. I had just pressed the pen to the paper to sign my name for the last time when I felt my cell phone vibrate against my leg. I answered it, holding up a finger to the Clave representative. When I heard him mumble 'Downworlders' under his breath, I was very tempted to bare my fangs at him, but I didn't think I would be allowed to keep my custody of the Shadowhunter after that**. **

"Yes?" I asked, my impatience clear.

It was Elliot, one of my most trusted vampires, who answered, sounding very nervous, "Uh, you _might_ want to get back here relatively quickly…"

"_Dios,_ what happened? Be careful what you say, a Nephilim is sitting right across from me; I don't want to get a stake run through my heart because of some idiot turnlings." The Clave guy gave me a suspicious glare, and I held up my free hand in mock surrender, and mouthed 'Dios, kidding'.

Elliot sounded frantic, "Seriously, dude, get your Mexican ass over here. They won't listen to me." He stopped talking for a moment, yelling at someone in the background. He must've been covering the phone, because I couldn't hear anything, even with vampire-hearing.

"Raphael, ditch the Clave guy. They're gonna kill her if they haven't already."

My eyes widened slightly in understanding, and I told the man, "_Triste_, I have to leave. Two turnlings were going at it over a cat."

A look of disgust came over his face, "Fine. You can sign the papers tomorrow."

I smiled, showing my fangs, "_Fue un placer_."

I walked as calmly as I could out of the diner, getting onto my motorcycle. It turned on silently, and sped off. Once I was out of the Nephilim's view, I made the motorcycle quickly rise into the air. I reached the DuMort in the span of thirty seconds, but I wasn't sure if it'd be enough. I dropped through the gaping hole in the ceiling, the same for the first few top floors until I reached the floor my office/room was on. I walked down the hall, letting the hatred show in my already blazing eyes. Most of the vampires who had stood by watching jumped to the ceiling, hurrying back down the hall, except for a few who were standing silently next to the doorway. In front of them was Lily, her face showing no hint of the black veins. She had fed recently, unlike me.

I snarled at her and her posse, "I'll deal with you later, _los idiotas_."

I walked through the doorway, and the tempting smell of fresh blood hit me. I saw Elliot straining not to lean forward and drink from Clary; instead, he was trying to bind her neck and wrists. The white gauze around the wounds was slowly turning red. I cursed in Spanish, but Elliot, having been around me so long, understood what that meant.

He raised an eyebrow at me, and whistled, "Now that you're done cussing me out, for no reason I might add, do you want to try to help me save the Nephilim's life?"

I let out a harsh laugh at the irony. We were going to go to great lengths to save the life of a girl who was only put in this situation to prevent her from dying.

"Dios. Well, we can't exactly take her to the Nephilim, and a hospital wouldn't work since she doesn't have any relatives, so we will just have to keep her here."

Elliot stood there a second, and then understood, "Oh. Well, that sucks. I'm going to go see if I can find an open store that sells painkillers, gauze, and needle and thread."

We were going to have to stitch her neck and wrists close. That would not be fun. "Elliot, if they have anything that can knock out someone for a while, get it," I called after him. He turned around, walking backwards, and saluted me, sarcastically saying, "Yes sir."

I rolled my eyes, and turned to Clary. Her neck had a few puncture wounds on it, but there was one long, but not deep, _gracias a Dios_, cut, and her wrists had a few cuts on them that went deep; not deep enough to kill her, yet, but with time blood loss could be a problem, and they might get infected.

I carefully lifted her onto the bed, one hand propping up her neck. I sat down next to her, observing how much nicer she looked when she wasn't glaring at someone. I got bored after a minute of watching her do nothing, so I picked her phone up and started looking for a certain message.

I found it almost right away; it was the one most recently viewed. I read over it, and raised an eyebrow. Wow, whoever had sent this didn't seem to be that considerate. I checked the number, and let out a light scoff. It was the NYPD number.

A light bulb went off in my head. Sure, our police department is crappy most of the time, but who would be low enough to tell a girl her parents are dead over a _text message_?

Just as I was beginning to wonder about that, Clary let out a moan of pain. Guess the quick numbing of the bite wore off. Her green eyes fluttered open, and she mumbled, "`at `appened?"

She looked around, but her eyes didn't contain that glimmer of curiosity; instead they looked glazed, bizarrely expressionless.

She lifted up a shaky hand, assumingly to brush back her hair, and she saw the near-soaked bandage wrapped around her wrist. She lifted her mouth, and stared at it, gaping.

I could hear her pulse increasing, but she continued to stare at the hand. She finally swallowed, "I don't think that's good."

"No, it's perfectly normal to be bleeding out, hermosa." I said, my voice dripping with clear sarcasm.

That dragged her out of her shock, her eyes gleaming with embarrassed anger. It was better than no emotion at all, though.

She was probably ready to start pointing out the whole 'attacked' thing, but at that moment Elliot got back. Elliot's eyes widened when he saw her awake, "Well, this'll complicate things…"

**Clary's POV:**

I widened my eyes, feeling my pulse pick up. "What do you mean?" I asked warily.

The other vampire looked warily at Raphael, who gave him a small nod. "Well, it would probably make it worse if you continued to bleed out, so we need to stitch up a small part of your neck and wrists. So…uh, yeah, that's about it."

I automatically started attempting to stand up, despite the room spinning around me for a second. "Nope. Not happening. Take me to the Institute or something; I'm not having two Downworlders to stitch me up."

Raphael scoffed at me, walking over, "Want to bet, _hermosa_?"

I glared, and tried to walk past him, but he rolled his eyes, "Do you think they would help you at the 'Institute'? They did give you up to the likes of us." He smirked.

I felt my face flush. "I don't care; I'll go somewhere else, then."

Raphael had the nerve to chuckle at me. "So, hermosa, you will be able to get past Elliot," the other vampire gave a small wave, "and myself, not to mention the other hundred or so vampires, find a place that won't question your lack of relatives, and will treat you before you bleed to death or get your cuts infected."

I glared at him, "You are not going to stitch my wrist or neck up."

Elliot looked between us, me glaring at him, and Raphael looking bored, and piped up, "You know, if you would just take the pain medicine already…"

I gave him a glare that cut him off. Raphael took the bag from Elliot, removing two bottles, both filled with pills. He looked at the labels and tossed one of them back to the other vampire. He unscrewed the lid of the one he was still holding and shook first two, then three pills into his hand. He held them out to me, "Take them."

I glared, "Make me."

He smirked, "If you insist." He stepped forward quicker than I anticipated, and pushed me backwards, causing me to fall onto the bed. He pinned my arms above my head with one hand, the pills in the other, and using one of his legs, he pinned both of mine down. He smirked, "Ready to take your medicine yet, _hermosa_?"

In response I clenched my jaw tighter. He rolled his eyes, and put the pills on my tight lips. "Swallow," he commanded, giving me another chance to take the medicine willingly. I just looked at him, not being able to speak without swallowing the pills.

Taking my silence as refusal, which it was, Raphael leaned forward, pressing his lips against mine. Note to self: when reporting vampires to Clave, add 'sexual assault' to list of complaints.

He forced my lips open, and pushed the pills into my mouth. He pulled back, walking over to the bag, discarded on the edge of the bed. He looked in it for a few seconds, and I felt my face pale when I saw it was a need and surgical thread.

I glared at him, "So will these actually knock me out or just get me high on painkillers?"

He paused a moment, "Not sure. Hopefully knock you out, that way I won't have to listen to a high Nephilim cussing me out." He returned to trying to get the thread through the needle. I probably would've continued to glare at him, but I felt my head fogging up. The room tilted to the left, causing me to fall onto the bed. I muttered a string of threats under my breath. I felt another dizzy spell come with a wave of nausea. I sat on the bed, pulled my knees up to my chest, and rested my head against my legs. I let out a small moan. "Ow-trong-er-tose-tings?" I asked, my words slurred. Even I knew they were coming into effect oddly fast.

The other vampire picked up the bottle that contained more of the pills. He raised his eyebrows, "Raphael, how many did you give her?"

"Three, why?" He asked, not looking up from the needle.

"Uh, no comment."

Raphael turned to Elliot, although by now it was like I was looking at them through blurry glasses, and my head felt like it was filling with a dense fog.

I lie down on the bed, trying to get control of my head. I knew it wasn't working because I couldn't hear them talking, even though they were using regular volume. My arms and legs felt heavy, like metal, so even if I tried to sit up I don't think I'd be able to.

I closed my eyes, and gave into the dark fog surrounding my head…

**Important Note!**

** Yes, Sebastian is going to appear *muahaha***

**So, is there something specific ****_you_**** want to see happen between Raphael and Clary? Example: An event, something either one says, whatever you want.**

**Review with your ideas! **

**And, if I reach thirty reviews, I will work extra super hard to get up Ch4 (I know this one was short, sorry, but you all were in such a hurry to see what would happen ;D…)**


	4. Redheads Don't Learn, Do They?

**Raphael POV:**

I finally finished stitching the poor Nephilim's neck and wrists up. I licked the blood off of my fingers, looking down to make sure that I had covered the wounds thoroughly. I personally think I did okay, but that won't stop the girl from being in a load of pain when she wakes up. I wrapped a fresh piece of gauze around her neck, and this time it stayed fairly white.

I sighed, and shook out one of the painkillers that Elliot had bought, putting it on the bedside table. I went to my desk in the other room, grabbing a piece of scrap paper, and scrawled 'Take the painkiller. It won't knock you out (I don't think). Be back later. Don't be stupid, hermosa' on it and put it right next to the pill so she wouldn't miss it.

_Now, for Lily and her worshippers_, I thought with disgust.

They were waiting dutifully in the hall, the younger ones looking slightly guilty, Lily giving me a cold glare, like I had done something to go against her.

"So," I began, lacing my voice with obviously false calm, "Head vampire leaves for a minute, and everyone decides it would be _such a maldito gran idea _to attack the Shadowhunter staying here."

Lily smiled, her teeth stained with blood at the tips. "Well," she drawled, "You did leave us with fresh meat."

I stepped forward, pushing her against the wall, hard. It cracked under the force, a few chips of paint falling away, "What _idiota_ world are you living in?"

I let my fangs come out, positioning them near a vein in her neck, "What, Lily, is stopping me from draining you ounce by ounce right now?"

She was still glaring, but it faltered slightly, "Nothing."

"_Si_," I chuckled, "_Absolutamente nada._" I quickly brought my fangs down on her throat, but instead of the normal taste of mundane's blood that I expected, it was the sweeter blood of a Shadowhunter that poured into my mouth. Of course. I almost drank her dry, but pulled away at the last second, leaving her with just enough blood to stay conscious.

Her groupies quickly caught her as she fell to the floor, glaring at me through piercing eyes. I licked the remaining blood off of my fangs, turned on my heel, and began walking away.

That Clave guy was most likely staying at the New York Institute, so that was where I was heading. I still had a few hours of night left, so I might as well get this stupid paper signing over with.

I easily leapt from ceiling to ceiling until I reached the roof. The winds whipped at my jacket, but the cold can't reach me anymore, so I kept walking, unfazed, to the motorcycles.

Mine powered on silently, and I took off into the night.

**Clary POV:**

I looked around blearily. My neck was throbbing painfully, and I swear I could feel every place the needle went in. I turned onto my side, curling up. I slowly swung my legs out of the bed, but had to rest a second before fully standing up. My vision blurred slightly, telling me that the pills Raphael had made me take were still in my system. Great.

I looked hazily at the end table, where my phone rested, next to a small piece of paper and a pill. I read through the note quickly, my nose turning up in disgust. Like hell I'd take another pill.

I woozily stood up, assessing where all of my stuff was. Most of it turned out to be in my backpack, including cash and my running shoes, and my phone was on the bedside table. I put my phone in my pocket, took out twenty dollars, and headed to the door. I carefully looked outside of the doorway, not surprised when I saw a vampire lazily leaning against the wall, most likely standing guard.

I walked over confidently, knowing that the vampire would let me out, whether I had to give cash or blood.

"Okay," I said, making my tone sound bored, "I'm willing to give you twenty bucks to get me out of the hotel."

The vampire raised a careless eyebrow at me, "Is that it? Twenty?"

I huffed, "Fine, thirty, but in case you haven't noticed, I'm being held here against my will, and don't have that much cash on me."

He shrugged, "I'll take the thirty. Only `cause it'll be funny for all of us to see Raphael get pissed off."

I nearly raised my eyebrows in surprise. That was a hell of a lot easier than I'd thought it'd be. He strode forward gracefully, as all vampires do, leading me forward down the hall.

Within a minute we had reached the entrance, unnoticed. He flashed his fangs in a grin as I handed over the money. "Pleasure doing business with you," he said, turning back into the building.

I felt a smirk reach across my lips. Way too easy. I would want him to be my 'guard' more often, except that I don't plan on coming back to the Dumort. Now to find a convenience store that sells painkillers.

I would've saved myself the trouble and used the pills at the Dumort, but Raphael had hidden them away somewhere. I began to walk on the uneven pavement, swaying only slightly from the long-lasting effects of the drug.

I wasn't very far from the closest convenience store, maybe a block or so, but my head wasn't clearing up any. I really hope my appearance doesn't make anyone call the cops on me. I can imagine a panicky person explaining to NYPD:

"Yes, officer, there was this crazy, frizzy haired ginger that looks like she's on crack. No, we don't have any friends or family she can contact, they're either dead, can't be trusted by the law, or don't want her. What? Can I watch over her? Hell no, she looks like she'd set my house on fire or slit my throat with a butter knife in my sleep. *scoff* Just hand her off to another dysfunctional family, let her be their problem. Just hurry up, she looks ready to strangle someone."

Yeah, that would be a great addition to my record.

I finally reached the convenience store, which had a lanky teenage girl managing the register. I grabbed a bottle of strong painkillers, putting it on the counter with a twenty. The girl raised a pierced eyebrow at me. "Aren't you a little young to be buying these?"

I'm pretty sure steam was coming out of my ears, "Just because someone is short, does not mean they are a little kid."

She shrugged, scanning the bottle. She smirked, "Oh, and you have a five minute head start before I let the NY vampires know that you were here."

I sigh, "Vampire?"

She shakes her head.

"Warlock?"

No again.

"Werewolf?"

She winks. "_Ding ding ding,_ we have a winner! You're down to four minutes now, by the way."

I sigh again, and dart out the door, not bothering to get my change. I had the bottle, though.

I kept running, not looking back to see the werewolf girl already dialing someone on her phone.

**Raphael POV:**

I landed easily in front of the NY Institute. I was able to go no farther than the front gates, though, so I rang the buzzer and waited. I was ready to assume the buzzer wasn't working, until I saw the Daylighter grudgingly coming out of the front doors. I bared my fangs in disgust, "Now you can enter sacred ground, too? What kind of 'damned creature of the night' can walk in sunlight _and_ enter the home of freaking angle spawn?"  
Simon shrugged, "Good point. Anyhow, the Clave dude wanted me to tell you that-"

He cut himself off, narrowing his eyes at me. "Why do I smell Clary's _blood_ on you?"

I rolled my eyes, not wanting to deal with that, "Long story. Not my fault. Now, what did the 'Clave dude' want to tell me?"

Simon stepped forward, "No, I'm pretty sure it is your fault. What happened? Is she okay? Is she alive? Is-"

I held up a hand, effectively shutting him up, "Okay, one, none of your business, two, yes she's alive, _estúpido_, or I wouldn't have come. I don't plan on getting a stake run through me."

Simon growled, "Fine, be that way. The Clave guy said he would wait until tomorrow to finish the papers, no exceptions. And this thing about Clary, it isn't over, Mexico-boy."

I was ready to risk getting burned to death to go rip the Clave person's throat out, maybe Simon's too, while I'm at it, but my phone began to vibrate in my pocket. That wasn't a good sign.

I picked it up, already walking back to my motorcycle. "_Si_?" I asked.

An unfamiliar voice answered, "You're the vamp guy, right?"

I powered on the motorcycle, answering, "No, this is Pizza Hut."

She continued, "Oh, so you wouldn't care if I were to mention that I just sold a short redhead a bottle of heavy painkillers?"

I sighed, "Which way did she go?"

The girl on the other end chuckled, "North on Roseway."

"Thanks," I hung up abruptly. Werewolves can be so annoying sometimes. I headed towards the street, and sure enough spotted her walking along calmly, trying to unscrew a medicine bottle fruitlessly. I landed a block behind her, but sprinted quickly so in a second I was walking alongside her.

She ignored me, still trying to unscrew the bottle.

"Need some help with that?" I asked.

Her head perked up. "Really?" she asked hopefully.

While she was distracted, I snatched the bottle out of her hands, "No, hermosa, I can't let you do that to yourself."

She frowned, "Why not? Give me an honest answer, not some crap about the Clave or my friends missing me."

I started walking back towards the motorcycle, pausing when I noticed she wasn't following. "Are you not coming, _hermosa_?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She shook her head, "Not until you give me an answer. If you can't, then I think I deserve to have the bottle back."

I sighed, walking back to her. I picked her up easily, tossing her over my shoulder, ignoring her futile attempts to get me to put her down.

She gave a huff, "I still want that answer."

I smirked, "And I still won't give it to you."

"So there _is_ an answer?" she asked as I reached the motorcycle. I put her down on the back of the seat, and then swung my own legs over. She tentatively put her hands on my shoulders. "You're going to fall off if you don't hold on, _hermosa_," I said, rolling my eyes.

She crossed her arms, "Sounds like a good plan to me."

I reached back, pulling her forward so that her hands were forced to go around my waist. She was about to pull back, but I quickly started the motorcycle, taking off. She yelped, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist, burrowing her head between my shoulder blades.

I smirked to myself, angling the motorcycle towards the Dumort. I knew I'd have to either make sure she knew she could never try something again, or try to win her over. Winning her over would be hard, though… Teaching her a lesson would be a lot more fun… But then again, I don't want to get reported to the goddamned Clave again (it has happened).

I'll win her over. Or try.

I turned away from the Dumort, instead turning the motorcycle in the direction of Taki's. I easily landed, but the redhead's grip on me didn't loosen. "We're on the ground again, _hermosa_."

She bolted up, shakily stepping onto the ground, "Never. Again."

I laughed under my breath, earning a glare from her. The glare faded away when she saw we were standing in front of Taki's. I had forgotten how easily mundanes/Shadowhunters got hungry.

I dragged her to a table near the back so we wouldn't have to deal with the questioning stares of the other Downworlders. When one of the waitresses came over, thankfully not the annoying one with the blue eyes, I ordered a small glass of blood, which made Clary crinkle her nose, and she ordered an Oreo milkshake and a cheeseburger with fries.

She hadn't glared at me the whole meal, which I'm assuming was a good sign, and the only time she spoke to me was after she had finished eating, and I was paying. All I had to say was my name, and the waitress deducted it from my account.

Clary frowned at me, "How much money do you have?"

I smiled, "A lot."

She paused a second, "I meant, where did you get it? Do you work the night shift at Wal-Mart or something?"

I rolled my eyes, and then shrugged, "After a while, money isn't needed, so it adds up."

She narrowed her eyes, "That doesn't explain anything, and you know it."

"Of course I knew that, that's exactly why I said it, _hermosa_."

She gave me a glare, and then stood up, "Well, let's go back to the hotel, then. Unless you are going to have a change of heart and give me the bottle? Maybe you can just tell me where you hid the other one… It's not that big of a deal, I mean, you can say I accidentally found it, or blame it on another vampire, it's not that hard…"

I rolled my eyes, "Let's just go."

As we were walking out of the diner, another freaking werewolf was there. He wolf-whistled (yes, I realize the irony) at Clary as she walked by. I bared my fangs at him, letting my eyes turn dark red, and growled. I took a step towards him, and probably would've started another feud, but Clary grabbed my arm. She wasn't strong enough to hold me back, but it shook me out of the angry haze. I bared my fangs at him again, growled once more, but then continued walking out.

Clary eyed me warily, careful to keep a safe distance between us. I got on the motorcycle first, and, once again, she tried to sit as far away from me as possible. I sighed, pulling her closer to me, and again her hands ended up around my waist. Before I started the engine, though, I asked, "Promise you won't try something again?"

And, as you probably know, me, asking _politely _for something is rare, so I assumed she wouldn't be stupid enough to say no.

"I solemnly swear," she began in a sad voice, holding her hand over her heart, "that I'll try something the moment your back is turned." Her voice perked up drastically during the second part.

I closed my eyes, trying to get the fiery anger to subside. I silently turned the motorcycle to the hotel, not talking to her the whole ride back. _Dios_, I thought, _she just doesn't learn. _A smirk reached my lips, _Punishment it is._

**AN (you should read it!) **

** Okay, please don't kill me for making you wait X-( And, what do YOU want Clary's punishment to be?**

**I hope it was worth it, though :) I promise: Sebastian will appear very, very, soon, Simon is still pissed at Raphael, and the requests I have gotten will be incorporated (I did a tiny bit of one, but don't worry, it'll be continued soon!) **

** Keep readin' (pleassseee!)**

** -Cat ;)**


	5. Snapchat

Paste your document here...

**Clary POV:**

I closed my eyes tightly as the motorcycle lifted into the sky. Why we couldn't walk or take the subway was beyond me. I felt my hair whipping around me from the wind and speed, and instinctively wrapped my hands tighter around Raphael's waist. Only, and _only_, you perverted people, because I didn't want to plummet to my death. It seemed like it'd be very painful. _That's pretty selfish, Clary_, the annoying voice in the back of my head said, _do you think _Jocelyn _or _Luke_ went painlessly? They were burned alive, and it's your fault that they died scared, wondering what would happen to _you._ It's your fault they didn't die peacefully. Your fault, no one else's. Joining them is the least you could do._

That voice was the only thing that kept me determined to keep trying. I knew it was only me talking to myself, but it helped me get through the grief. It gave me a goal to reach. A hard one, sure, but it made sense. It was the only way I could make things right…

I would've kept arguing with myself, but at that moment, the motorcycle pulled to a stop on the roof of the hotel. Raphael stood up abruptly, and, not waiting for me to get over my nausea, pulled me off the motorcycle roughly, dragging me toward the gaping hole in the roof. I wasn't prepared for being pulled off of the bike, and fell clumsily onto my knees. He kept walking with a tight grip on my arm, so I tried hard to get to my feet.

I managed to right myself just before we reached the hole, glaring at Raphael. "Okay, what is going on?" I asked, then, in a singsong voice added, "This isn't how you're supposed to treat people…"

He smirked at me, "No, but when do I ever do what I'm supposed to, _hermosa_?"

I smiled slightly, mocking him, "Maybe this is why no one likes you. You're permanently stuck in the whole 'rebellious teenager' stage."

He scoffed at me, and I scoffed back, sarcastically. He let my arm go, and jumped down through the hole. I tentatively dropped down, stumbling slightly when I landed. We continued dropping floor by floor until we reached the floor the room was on.

I automatically headed to the guest room, but Raphael blocked the doorway (freakin' vampire speed…).

He rolled his eyes when I glared at him. "You won't be staying in there anymore, I'm afraid."

I raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

He raised an eyebrow back, "Yes. Is there a problem with that?"

I nodded, "Uh-huh. I have a long, long, list going about what I'm going to report to the Clave about you, and it'd be very inconsiderate of you to make me add any more to it. And, if you're going to legally hold a girl captive against her will, the very least you could do is give that girl her own room."

He laughed humorously, "Well, I would, except that since you try to run away every time I turn around, I obviously need to keep a closer eye on you." He winked at me, causing an angry blush to come over my face.

I grabbed one of the pillows off of the bed, and pointed away from the guest room. "Move. Now," I said, trying to sound madder than I was. It wasn't that bad; I could just sleep on the couch, but I am _not_ backing down now. My pride wouldn't allow it.

He scoffed at me again (he needs to think of something new; the whole *scoff* thing is getting old…), "Or what? You'll hit me? With a _pillow_?"

I put on my best 'yes, stupid' face, "Uh huh. Is there a problem with my pillow?" I held it up threateningly.

He leaned against the guest bedroom doorway, "Okay, give it your best shot."

I huffed, "No. Just move already."

He laughed, "No, no, I want to see you try to get me to move."

"You know what? Fine. I'm sleeping on the freaking couch, I never liked the guest room anyway," I said angrily, walking towards the couch. I sat down, crossing my arms, "I could've made you move, I just didn't want to hurt your poor little vampire pride. It'd be a lot harder to deal with you if you had self-esteem issues."

He rolled his eyes at me, "Oh, so I'm the one who's hard to deal with, eh?" He walked into the guest bedroom, and brought my backpack out. He tossed it to me, and I caught it surprisingly easily. I lay down on the couch, rolled over so I was facing the wall, and started playing Doodle Jump on my phone. I could feel Raphael's eyes on me, so I said, "Why don't you go kill someone or something?"

"I'm good, I had a cat on the way here."

I rolled back over, propping myself up with one arm, "You did what?!"

He laughed, not sarcastically this time, "Kidding, kidding!"

I glared at him. "That is not funny," I rolled back over, "I happen to love cats."

He laughed again, and I heard him walk in the direction of the door. "I'm leaving, but I'll be back soon; the sun will be up in an hour or two. I wouldn't try leaving again."

I huffed, and heard him leave. I turned onto my back, still playing on my phone. After a minute, I got bored of Doodle Jump, and decided to look into an app Isabelle had been going on about, Snapchat or something. I downloaded it, my eyebrows coming together in confusion. What's with the little ghost icon?

I searched through my contacts, finding out that a lot of people had them: Izzy, Jace, Simon (really?), Alec, Magnus, Maia, Jordan… Ooh, time to have some fun revenge. If they're all so worried about me…

I could help smiling as I searched through my backpack for any stray markers. To my delight, I found a red one. You all were so 'worried', eh? I'll show you for sending me away.

I broke open the marker after a few tries, and poured the red ink over one of my wrists, making it look like surprisingly realistic blood. I took a picture, put the caption 'So much for your `master plan` Jace. None of you are forgiven, by the way.' And sent it to everyone I mentioned above.

It was a few minutes before I started getting frantic Snapchats and texts from everyone except Magnus, who sent me a message saying 'So was that a red pen or a marker? ;)'

I ignored all of them until they started changing to angry. Apparently, Magnus told them about the whole 'red ink' thing. Darn.

I sent them all a Snapchat of me smiling widely, 'You guys aren't a very smart group for Shadowhunters, werewolves, and a vampire, huh? Nice going Magnus ;)'

I got a bunch of angry texts back, including the following:

Simon: Clary! I told you it wasn't my fault, don't scare me like that! :o

Izzy: Clary, you wonder why we made that decision in the first place…

Jace: Clary, that is not even funny, don't joke about that.

I decided to reply to Jace out of frustration, 'It isn't meant to be a joke, it is meant to scare you. You abandoned me when I needed you most; you don't know how much that hurt. Well, you do now.'

Great, now I was pissed off again, and because of the same person. The person I thought I could trust. I lay there fuming for a few moments, and decided to go take a shower to clear my head. After I got out, I quickly dressed, and was combing out my hair when I heard footsteps coming down the eerily quiet hallway. The main door was closed, but the footsteps were still very clear. I was still in the bathroom, putting my hair into a ponytail, when I heard the door open. Huh, there were still a few hours of night left, so Raphael must be back early.

"Raphael?" I called out, "You're back soon, aren't you? Did you miss me?" I laughed after saying the last part, but the laughter and smile melted away when I heard the voice that answered. It had no trace of an accent, but was still way too familiar.

"Of course I missed you, little sister," the voice said. I saw my eyes widen in the mirror, my mouth hanging open. I made a move to close the door, but he had already come over to it, and put his foot in the doorway.

I was speechless as the person from my nightmares stood in front of me, white hair and all. I made a grab for my phone, which had been resting on top of my old clothes, and barely had time to take a blurred picture of him and send it to everyone in my Snapchat contacts before he took it from my hands and sent it crashing into the wall.

He held a cloth to my nose, and a sour, alcoholic, smell reached my nose. My vision blurred before darkening, and the last thing I heard was him, Sebastian, laughing.

**Important! Read below!**

**Okay, I'm so sorry it took forever to update! You all forgive me, right? *dodges shoe* Okaaaay, guess not… Anyhow, I just realized that this Sebastian and Sebastian from Black Butler are both demons XD**

**Oh yeah, and there is now an ask blog for Raphael made by yours truly! ask raphael santiago .com, minus the spaces, so feel free to ask whatever ;)**

**Any requests? And I promise that I'll update soon if I get reviews! And, hint hint, I tend to update faster if I get ideas!**

Please keep reading! ~Cat


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